When it first happened, everything wasstraightforward. The editors had it downto four inches, and left the rest to a new restaurant. On TV, a professor said something axiomatic. There was a protest, or perhaps there was only a group of six with illegible placards, quickly broken up. Most people forgot itthe week after. Those who knew wrote cryptic notesin the margins of old books. The bureaucratslost the files in a flash flood, whispered commonplaces in the ears of the inquisitive. A long silence, hauntedby the barest ghost of truth. At last, the historians held conferencesannouncing their discovery. But soon they accused each other of being revisionists. Others spoke of discourse, praxis and collective memory. In the end they agreed that perhaps it wasn't really all that significant.